They say the body has memory.

I didn’t believe that until I started waking up soaked in sweat and c*m, my heart racing, my fingers trembling, my lips parted as if I’d been whispering his name in sleep.

But I never even knew his real name.

I remember his voice though, how it curled around me like smoke, soft and deep, commanding yet kind, dark and dangerous.

He never touched me. Never laid a hand on me. But I came so hard, I cried.

Now, every night, I crave it. That voice. That whisper that made my knees weak. That sin I never thought I’d want.

I thought I was straight. Now, I’m not even sure I’m sane.

And I think I’d ruin myself just to hear it again.

For 25 years, Zayn lived in a world of straight expectations, dating girls, chasing pleasure that always ended in silence and frustration. Sex was a routine, not release. Until one bored night, chasing a thrill, he said yes to something different.

A man in a club offered him more than money, he offered a secret, a night of satisfaction like he’d never known. But when Zayn entered that hotel room, he didn’t expect him, the rich, cold, dangerously alluring heir of a conservative empire, whose father publicly condemns everything he hides in the dark.

What started as a one-night experiment turned into a dangerous addiction. Without a single touch, Zayn was broken open, undone, and made to scream, cry, and beg, only through sound.

Now, even back home, Zayn trembles when he hears his voice in dreams, in memory, in madness. His sheets are always wet. His nights are restless. His body wants more.

And the worst part?

He's starting to want him, too.


18+ WARNING 
This story contains explicit male-male content, intense erotic scenes, and psychological seduction.
If you're not ready for a world where a voice can break you, proceed cautiously.

Read at your discretion.

He stood there, unhurried, taking in my disheveled state, sweating, with an undone tie, and a desperate look in my eyes. He sauntered toward the desk, savoring every moment of my incapacitation.


I looked up, breathing heavily, the haze of the drug making my vision swim. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. My voice was a dry croak as I fought for coherence.


Nicki leaned against the edge of my desk, close enough for me to smell his clean cologne over the metallic scent of my own sweat. He dropped his voice to an intimate whisper, his eyes dark with satisfaction.


"Of course, I did. I wouldn't want you fighting me, Evric. Not when I know exactly what your body is screaming for right now." He ran the tip of his finger lightly along the line of my jaw, a touch that ignited fire across my skin. "Just beg me, Evric. Tell me you want to fuck me."


Chapter 202 - Chapter 202: Nicki's Final Gambit